(above flier: quilted Egyptian necklace by Julie Floersch)
In December 2006, for my birthday, I received a detailed pencil drawing made of twelve taped-together squares from my close friend, Julie Floersch. She told me that she was going to stop working full-time at her seemingly great fashion industry job to make a quilt. I, of course, was supportive, but secretly thought she might have lost her mind. Julie and I both live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, part of an industrial landscape peopled with young, creative, pseudo-alcoholics with cool haircuts. The only people I knew of who were into quilts are long-deceased relatives who had stitched together postage-stamp-sized scraps out of economy and boredom. Where and why would someone I know get the idea to start quilting? Julie was working in fashion and became frustrated with the disposability of our culture. She wanted to "make something that took a lot of time and heart, something that someone would want to hold on to for a long time."
Ironically, it was at work that Julie's idea for her first quilt solidified. "Quilt-making was something that had been in the back of my mind for a while, and I was suddenly exploding with ideas for quilts. It seemed like a natural medium to transition to as I could use all my patternmaking and tailoring knowledge that I had accumulated over the years," she explained. One day, surrounded by piles of denim garments, she realized that she wanted to make a quilt that had that same casually piled, yet sculptural feeling. To achieve that, she would use traditional shapes, tessellating and pleating them until one "couldn't tell where one block started and the other ended." So my pencil drawing originated.
It took an entire month for the pattern alone! The "basic" block went through four or five incarnations and was an odd size (10x10) that wouldn't fit on a standard copy machine screen. "So I had to keep going to Staples to use their oversize machine. Then I would come home and tape everything together and fix areas that didn't look right and go back again until it was right. I think there are over 5000 pieces in it." Julie was so into sewing the quilt that she organized all of the pieces into zippered plastic bags and took it everywhere she went. Her quilt was her constant companion in delis, parks, friends' apartments, and airports. She did a lot of traveling that year, too, so her quilt "saw Europe and the California coast with me!" At home, Julie somehow crammed a gigantic quilting frame into her New York-sized bedroom and clandestinely hand-quilted the entire thing, listening to NPR podcasts and watching So You Think You Can Dance on TV. A year later, the finished quilt is a sprawling denim landscape of approximately 60.5 by 73.5 feet (18.5 by 22.5 meters). Impressive, but Julie says that her least favorite part of the process is when it's over. "It's like reading a book: it's always there waiting for you---you get immersed in it---and you have to finish it to know how it ends but when it's finished it always feels a little sad."
Julie continued to take quilting out of the domain of grannies and this past year presented me with incredible, tiny quilts for my ears and wrists. "It started as a way to get this amazing jewelry that a friend of mine (who only trades) makes…I like that I can make something in a few days that someone can take with them and feel the coziness on their arms or ears all day." The very three-dimensional designs, which look like they could be modern accessories for Ziggy Stardust, have in turn inspired a series of small quilted sculptures. These are made of quilted "modules" with one side printed and another side in a pop color. With snaps at all points, enabling them to be attached and detached from one another, they can be twisted and manipulated into countless configurations. She is also working on a wall quilt of her friends' old favorite clothing, including my favorite spray-painted denim jacket. This month, Julie's quilt will be on display in the window of the Madewell flagship store in Soho (486 Broadway at Broome Street). There will be an opening reception on Thursday, November 6th from 7-9 during which Julie will be customizing totebags with quilted appliques, as well as a complimentary martini bar and some kind of denim/boot sale. RSVP to events@madewell1937.com, and stop by on Thursday evening. Julie Floersch really has found a way to bring the age-old craft of quilting into a modern, and distinctly fashionable, context.
In December 2006, for my birthday, I received a detailed pencil drawing made of twelve taped-together squares from my close friend, Julie Floersch. She told me that she was going to stop working full-time at her seemingly great fashion industry job to make a quilt. I, of course, was supportive, but secretly thought she might have lost her mind. Julie and I both live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, part of an industrial landscape peopled with young, creative, pseudo-alcoholics with cool haircuts. The only people I knew of who were into quilts are long-deceased relatives who had stitched together postage-stamp-sized scraps out of economy and boredom. Where and why would someone I know get the idea to start quilting? Julie was working in fashion and became frustrated with the disposability of our culture. She wanted to "make something that took a lot of time and heart, something that someone would want to hold on to for a long time."
Ironically, it was at work that Julie's idea for her first quilt solidified. "Quilt-making was something that had been in the back of my mind for a while, and I was suddenly exploding with ideas for quilts. It seemed like a natural medium to transition to as I could use all my patternmaking and tailoring knowledge that I had accumulated over the years," she explained. One day, surrounded by piles of denim garments, she realized that she wanted to make a quilt that had that same casually piled, yet sculptural feeling. To achieve that, she would use traditional shapes, tessellating and pleating them until one "couldn't tell where one block started and the other ended." So my pencil drawing originated.
It took an entire month for the pattern alone! The "basic" block went through four or five incarnations and was an odd size (10x10) that wouldn't fit on a standard copy machine screen. "So I had to keep going to Staples to use their oversize machine. Then I would come home and tape everything together and fix areas that didn't look right and go back again until it was right. I think there are over 5000 pieces in it." Julie was so into sewing the quilt that she organized all of the pieces into zippered plastic bags and took it everywhere she went. Her quilt was her constant companion in delis, parks, friends' apartments, and airports. She did a lot of traveling that year, too, so her quilt "saw Europe and the California coast with me!" At home, Julie somehow crammed a gigantic quilting frame into her New York-sized bedroom and clandestinely hand-quilted the entire thing, listening to NPR podcasts and watching So You Think You Can Dance on TV. A year later, the finished quilt is a sprawling denim landscape of approximately 60.5 by 73.5 feet (18.5 by 22.5 meters). Impressive, but Julie says that her least favorite part of the process is when it's over. "It's like reading a book: it's always there waiting for you---you get immersed in it---and you have to finish it to know how it ends but when it's finished it always feels a little sad."
Julie continued to take quilting out of the domain of grannies and this past year presented me with incredible, tiny quilts for my ears and wrists. "It started as a way to get this amazing jewelry that a friend of mine (who only trades) makes…I like that I can make something in a few days that someone can take with them and feel the coziness on their arms or ears all day." The very three-dimensional designs, which look like they could be modern accessories for Ziggy Stardust, have in turn inspired a series of small quilted sculptures. These are made of quilted "modules" with one side printed and another side in a pop color. With snaps at all points, enabling them to be attached and detached from one another, they can be twisted and manipulated into countless configurations. She is also working on a wall quilt of her friends' old favorite clothing, including my favorite spray-painted denim jacket. This month, Julie's quilt will be on display in the window of the Madewell flagship store in Soho (486 Broadway at Broome Street). There will be an opening reception on Thursday, November 6th from 7-9 during which Julie will be customizing totebags with quilted appliques, as well as a complimentary martini bar and some kind of denim/boot sale. RSVP to events@madewell1937.com, and stop by on Thursday evening. Julie Floersch really has found a way to bring the age-old craft of quilting into a modern, and distinctly fashionable, context.
(detail of quilt)
(The quilt's guts/seam allowances)
(The quilt's guts/seam allowances)
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1 comments:
SO impressive, wow, it's gorgeous.
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